A/N Cromwell hospital actually exists and they do have a "gamma knife
center" whether or not they take indigent patients I don't know but it
works for the story.
*-*-*-*
Arriving at Cromwell Hospital Alex entered through the smoked glass doors, past several potted palms and made her way to the reception desk. Her long hair was piled on her head and she wore a white lab coat. Behind the desk sat a young man with thick coke bottle lens glasses and a big smile which seemed to widen even further as he saw the lovely asian woman approach. "Well hello," he said stretching out the "o" and extending his hand. "What can I do for you today?"
Alex just glanced at his hand not taking it and asked, "I'm Dr.Alex Munday I'd like to speak with the administrator Dr. Smythton." It wasn't all a lie, she did have a doctorate in several subjects but rarely if ever did she use her title.
"Dr. Smython is a very busy man," leered the man, "perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
"I doubt it. I'm looking for information on a former employee."
"Really?" He leaned over the desk closer to her. His warm breath which smelled of the spaghetti heavy on the garlic and oregano he had for lunch and blew steadily against her face. "Being the head receptionist, I am the eyes and ears of Cromwell Hospital. Tell me who you are looking for and I would love to help."
"If you could direct me to Dr. Smythton." she started and he cut her off.
"I know I bet you are here to ask about what's-his-name." He snapped his fingers trying to recall information. "I know it was something eastern European, he was an orderly. Well anyway he was a good guy then that last week he went all funny in the head. Mad? I don't know but I do know that he was up in London Royal Free Hospital." Then he placed his hand conspiratorially to the side of his face, "They've a mental health section there." Then he removed his hand and sat back down, much to Alex's relief. She didn't know how much more she could take; his breath was making her nauseous. "Probably still have him there. He was right weird."
"What makes you think that I am here about him?" she asked
"No one else has ever worked her who's been worth talking about. Kind of a boring place, but it pays well so I can't complain. I take home enough quid to live easily."
While she would have loved to play games they were on a short time table. Inspector Morrison had been extremely displeased with the agency because of Dylan and had given them little time to either "catch Cartusu again or if he isn't the kill find the real one." So she leaned closer to the young man working receiption until her cleavage was visible and asked interestedly "How was he weird?"
"Well.he worked up in neurology, neurosurgery. A lot of old people, stroke and Alzheimer's patients. Well I guess the stress just got to him. They said he was busy, now these are the doctors words not mine mind you, identifying too much with the patients. 'Parently someone heard him talking to old Mr. Florescu and he was telling him that he was him. Ya, know what I'm saying?"
As an older man with a ring of gray hair around his balding head and wire rim glasses rounded the corner the man at reception turned and said loudly, "Excuse me, Dr. Smython?"
The doctor turned and walked to the desk, "Yes Mr. Jones?"
"This is Dr. Alex..?" He asked forgetting her name.
"Munday," supplied the angel.
"And what can I do for you Dr. Munday?" asked the administrator.
"I'm here to check out an employee who used to work here at Cromwell. We just hired a man by the name of Peter Cartusu."
"Cartusu! That's the name I couldn't think of," cried the man at reception. Both Alex and the doctor flashed him a look. "Oh quite sorry. Carry on."
"Peter Cartusu you say? Come with me Dr. Munday and we can discuss Mr. Cartusu in further detail." He led the angel to the elevator and they boarded. Then he pressed the button for the floor that held the neurosurgery department. "I must say, it comes as a shock to have an American doctor here asking about Cartusu. I wasn't aware that he had been released from LRFH."
"Apparently he was some time ago," said Alex hoping that her bluff worked. After this she would have to go to the London Royal Free Hospital and see just what information there could be dug up on Cartusu.
"So has he emigrated then? Where in the US?" asked the doctor in a suspicious tone.
"He hasn't yet. We received his application and were interested. Since it is a specialty hospital we like finding out about prospective employees first hand."
"Oh, a specialty hospital? Perhaps I have heard of it." Luckily Alex didn't have to answer as the lift stopped on the appropriate floor, the doors sliding open with a quiet hiss.
"This is our Neurosurgery department also known as the Gamma Knife Center. We sometimes take indigent patients who would most certainly not make it on the street. Follow me," he said leading her down the long bright corridor. "Most are homeless men and women with varying degrees of Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, some have brain tumors."
"You experiment on these people?" asked Alex.
"We do try the newest treatments on them and offer them a better way of life. Perhaps Peter felt too much for the ones we couldn't help. You see," he said opening a door to reveal an emaciated old man who Alex determined to be well into his nineties. "This is Mr. Florescu. He was found outside of Harrods on Knightsbridge. He had suffered a stroke. Knowing that we help people like Mr. Florescu he was brought to us by ambulance. He is also the last patient that Peter Cartusu attended before well going a little off. Anyway he didn't respond well to most of the treatments we have tried and I think that is what disturbed Peter. He will be going for another test later so we can determine if any other the neural pathways for the speech center can be reactivated."
Alex watched the patient as the doctor spoke of how he was found. The whole time the old man lay quietly in his bed until the doctor said the name Cartusu, then the man moaned loudly and tried to gather up enough strength to thrash about. Something didn't seem quite right. "Do you suspect that perhaps Cartusu was abusing this patient?"
At the mention of Cartusu the old man began again.
"Heaven's no, why on earth would you think that?" asked the doctor.
"He just seems to become agitated when the orderly's name is mentioned."
"That was noted before Ms.Dr. Munday. We have determined it is because his poor mind thinks that Cartusu and Florecu are the same name" Alex didn't think so. Both names had been spoken and the old man only reacted to the one. She knew he was trying to tell both of them something but the administrator wasn't willing to listen. The beeper the Adminstrator had clipped to his belt beeped.
"If you will excuse me Dr. Munday, I need to make a quick call. I'm sure you can find your way out and if you have any questions feel free to call me," he said as he bolted from the room.
"What is it that the doctor doesn't want to know?" she said softly more to herself than the old man in the bed. "Mr. Floresu?" she began but the old man shook his head. "It must take most of his strength to do that," she thought as she sat down next to him. Then without realizing what she was thinking she said, "Cartusu?" and the old man moaned and tried to speak. It was making sense yet not making any sense to her at the same time. Her logical mind wouldn't let her fully accept what she was seeing; it wouldn't let her accept that Cartusu was trying to tell her he was trapped in Florsecu's body. Although she was able to note the youth reflecting back at her from the patient's eyes.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan threw her suitcase on the bed and her clothing inside of it. She didn't know what was happening to her but she didn't want it to happen to her friends as well plus they didn't need her on this case. Feeling as though she was losing her mind she wrapped her hand around the medallion that hung from her neck. It had been so long since she felt like herself. She had been fine until the kiss on the rooftop and then something happened, she found herself understanding and actually caring about the Thin Man. She hadn't even realized that she pulled his hair and wondered as she slowly brought it up to her face and rubbed it against her chin why the hell she had done it? The weird part was that she enjoyed it, all of it from the kiss to the hair pulling.
As she held the medallion she began to feel more like the Dylan that she knew. She would go to Cartusu, find out what he wanted, be his friend and catch him herself. She would make sure they had solid evidence, and arrest his ass. Knowing after the whole Seamus fiasco that running wasn't the answer she would be damned if she did it this time. No, instead she would fix the mess she caused by facing it head on.
Slamming the suitcase closed she picked it up and left the room shutting the hotel suite door behind her. Dylan wouldn't worry about the last two days she would look to the future and seeing Cartusu in jail where he belonged. Then leaving her suitcase in the hall for a moment she ran back inside to retrieve the forgotten underground map which she left on the bed. Dragging her suitcase down the hall she calculated the best way to get to the killer's house in Woodford.
*-*-*-*-*
The traffic in London was horrible causing Bosley to spend an hour in a cab and missing Dylan by fifteen minutes. He cursed the left-handed driving of the British citizenry, the cockney driver, and the broken heating in the cab. Giving the driver the fare and a small tip he went inside and headed up to the suit. When he opened the door everything inside was dark. The tv was off and the remote was where he had placed the night before. Dylan obviously hadn't been watching television or the remote would have been in the bathroom. She wasn't the type who put things back where they went.
"Dylan?" he called but received no answer. "Probably asleep." Lightly he knocked on the door to her room and pushed the door open. Peering inside he saw a neatly made bed and an empty closet. The coke cans which had been on the floor earlier had been thrown away. "Dylan?" he asked again into the empty room. Getting an idea he kneeled on the floor and peered underneath the bed, lifting the striped duvet. Her suitcase was missing.
Still kneeling on the floor he picked up the phone from the night table and pushed 0 for outgoing calls and dialed Natalie's cell phone number.
"Hello?" said the blonde on the other end of the line picking up on the first ring.
"Nat, its Bos."
"Hey Bos, how's Dylan?"
How was he going to tell her that she was gone? Shrugging he forged straight on, "I don't know. She isn't here."
"She went for a walk?"
"Not unless she took her luggage with her."
Natalie was confused. "She left? Is there a note? Have you called Alex?"
"Yes, no and no. You're the first one I called."
"Okay." She said taking a deep audible breath. "You go downstairs and find out if anyone has seen her. I'll call Alex we can meet at the Glouster Road underground station. Then we will both meet you at the hotel and all of us can search for Dylan. I've got some interesting information to share."
*-*-*-*-*
In his one room apartment in Woodford Cartusu tried to reach out to the angel. He was feeling bad and although he didn't want to feed on anyone else for fear of breaking their bond he needed some more energy. He opened his mind and felt her anger and her frustration. She could feel her think of Anthony. The man had obviously touched her deeply. Then her mind slammed shut. The closure was so sudden that he jumped in his chair, his eyes springing open in amazement. How had she done that? She was strong but that was impossible especially in her current state.
He knew what it was; he just couldn't put his finger on it. He could almost hear the voice of the Teacher explaining but for now he could only see the man's moving lips. "Damn it!" he yelled throwing the small ceramic cat that was on the table near the chair next to the wall. "I want her. I need her and she will not stop me. I don't know how she blocked me but she won't do it again. I won't let her do it again and if she tries.and if she tries she will be punished."
*-*-*-*
Arriving at Cromwell Hospital Alex entered through the smoked glass doors, past several potted palms and made her way to the reception desk. Her long hair was piled on her head and she wore a white lab coat. Behind the desk sat a young man with thick coke bottle lens glasses and a big smile which seemed to widen even further as he saw the lovely asian woman approach. "Well hello," he said stretching out the "o" and extending his hand. "What can I do for you today?"
Alex just glanced at his hand not taking it and asked, "I'm Dr.Alex Munday I'd like to speak with the administrator Dr. Smythton." It wasn't all a lie, she did have a doctorate in several subjects but rarely if ever did she use her title.
"Dr. Smython is a very busy man," leered the man, "perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
"I doubt it. I'm looking for information on a former employee."
"Really?" He leaned over the desk closer to her. His warm breath which smelled of the spaghetti heavy on the garlic and oregano he had for lunch and blew steadily against her face. "Being the head receptionist, I am the eyes and ears of Cromwell Hospital. Tell me who you are looking for and I would love to help."
"If you could direct me to Dr. Smythton." she started and he cut her off.
"I know I bet you are here to ask about what's-his-name." He snapped his fingers trying to recall information. "I know it was something eastern European, he was an orderly. Well anyway he was a good guy then that last week he went all funny in the head. Mad? I don't know but I do know that he was up in London Royal Free Hospital." Then he placed his hand conspiratorially to the side of his face, "They've a mental health section there." Then he removed his hand and sat back down, much to Alex's relief. She didn't know how much more she could take; his breath was making her nauseous. "Probably still have him there. He was right weird."
"What makes you think that I am here about him?" she asked
"No one else has ever worked her who's been worth talking about. Kind of a boring place, but it pays well so I can't complain. I take home enough quid to live easily."
While she would have loved to play games they were on a short time table. Inspector Morrison had been extremely displeased with the agency because of Dylan and had given them little time to either "catch Cartusu again or if he isn't the kill find the real one." So she leaned closer to the young man working receiption until her cleavage was visible and asked interestedly "How was he weird?"
"Well.he worked up in neurology, neurosurgery. A lot of old people, stroke and Alzheimer's patients. Well I guess the stress just got to him. They said he was busy, now these are the doctors words not mine mind you, identifying too much with the patients. 'Parently someone heard him talking to old Mr. Florescu and he was telling him that he was him. Ya, know what I'm saying?"
As an older man with a ring of gray hair around his balding head and wire rim glasses rounded the corner the man at reception turned and said loudly, "Excuse me, Dr. Smython?"
The doctor turned and walked to the desk, "Yes Mr. Jones?"
"This is Dr. Alex..?" He asked forgetting her name.
"Munday," supplied the angel.
"And what can I do for you Dr. Munday?" asked the administrator.
"I'm here to check out an employee who used to work here at Cromwell. We just hired a man by the name of Peter Cartusu."
"Cartusu! That's the name I couldn't think of," cried the man at reception. Both Alex and the doctor flashed him a look. "Oh quite sorry. Carry on."
"Peter Cartusu you say? Come with me Dr. Munday and we can discuss Mr. Cartusu in further detail." He led the angel to the elevator and they boarded. Then he pressed the button for the floor that held the neurosurgery department. "I must say, it comes as a shock to have an American doctor here asking about Cartusu. I wasn't aware that he had been released from LRFH."
"Apparently he was some time ago," said Alex hoping that her bluff worked. After this she would have to go to the London Royal Free Hospital and see just what information there could be dug up on Cartusu.
"So has he emigrated then? Where in the US?" asked the doctor in a suspicious tone.
"He hasn't yet. We received his application and were interested. Since it is a specialty hospital we like finding out about prospective employees first hand."
"Oh, a specialty hospital? Perhaps I have heard of it." Luckily Alex didn't have to answer as the lift stopped on the appropriate floor, the doors sliding open with a quiet hiss.
"This is our Neurosurgery department also known as the Gamma Knife Center. We sometimes take indigent patients who would most certainly not make it on the street. Follow me," he said leading her down the long bright corridor. "Most are homeless men and women with varying degrees of Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, some have brain tumors."
"You experiment on these people?" asked Alex.
"We do try the newest treatments on them and offer them a better way of life. Perhaps Peter felt too much for the ones we couldn't help. You see," he said opening a door to reveal an emaciated old man who Alex determined to be well into his nineties. "This is Mr. Florescu. He was found outside of Harrods on Knightsbridge. He had suffered a stroke. Knowing that we help people like Mr. Florescu he was brought to us by ambulance. He is also the last patient that Peter Cartusu attended before well going a little off. Anyway he didn't respond well to most of the treatments we have tried and I think that is what disturbed Peter. He will be going for another test later so we can determine if any other the neural pathways for the speech center can be reactivated."
Alex watched the patient as the doctor spoke of how he was found. The whole time the old man lay quietly in his bed until the doctor said the name Cartusu, then the man moaned loudly and tried to gather up enough strength to thrash about. Something didn't seem quite right. "Do you suspect that perhaps Cartusu was abusing this patient?"
At the mention of Cartusu the old man began again.
"Heaven's no, why on earth would you think that?" asked the doctor.
"He just seems to become agitated when the orderly's name is mentioned."
"That was noted before Ms.Dr. Munday. We have determined it is because his poor mind thinks that Cartusu and Florecu are the same name" Alex didn't think so. Both names had been spoken and the old man only reacted to the one. She knew he was trying to tell both of them something but the administrator wasn't willing to listen. The beeper the Adminstrator had clipped to his belt beeped.
"If you will excuse me Dr. Munday, I need to make a quick call. I'm sure you can find your way out and if you have any questions feel free to call me," he said as he bolted from the room.
"What is it that the doctor doesn't want to know?" she said softly more to herself than the old man in the bed. "Mr. Floresu?" she began but the old man shook his head. "It must take most of his strength to do that," she thought as she sat down next to him. Then without realizing what she was thinking she said, "Cartusu?" and the old man moaned and tried to speak. It was making sense yet not making any sense to her at the same time. Her logical mind wouldn't let her fully accept what she was seeing; it wouldn't let her accept that Cartusu was trying to tell her he was trapped in Florsecu's body. Although she was able to note the youth reflecting back at her from the patient's eyes.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan threw her suitcase on the bed and her clothing inside of it. She didn't know what was happening to her but she didn't want it to happen to her friends as well plus they didn't need her on this case. Feeling as though she was losing her mind she wrapped her hand around the medallion that hung from her neck. It had been so long since she felt like herself. She had been fine until the kiss on the rooftop and then something happened, she found herself understanding and actually caring about the Thin Man. She hadn't even realized that she pulled his hair and wondered as she slowly brought it up to her face and rubbed it against her chin why the hell she had done it? The weird part was that she enjoyed it, all of it from the kiss to the hair pulling.
As she held the medallion she began to feel more like the Dylan that she knew. She would go to Cartusu, find out what he wanted, be his friend and catch him herself. She would make sure they had solid evidence, and arrest his ass. Knowing after the whole Seamus fiasco that running wasn't the answer she would be damned if she did it this time. No, instead she would fix the mess she caused by facing it head on.
Slamming the suitcase closed she picked it up and left the room shutting the hotel suite door behind her. Dylan wouldn't worry about the last two days she would look to the future and seeing Cartusu in jail where he belonged. Then leaving her suitcase in the hall for a moment she ran back inside to retrieve the forgotten underground map which she left on the bed. Dragging her suitcase down the hall she calculated the best way to get to the killer's house in Woodford.
*-*-*-*-*
The traffic in London was horrible causing Bosley to spend an hour in a cab and missing Dylan by fifteen minutes. He cursed the left-handed driving of the British citizenry, the cockney driver, and the broken heating in the cab. Giving the driver the fare and a small tip he went inside and headed up to the suit. When he opened the door everything inside was dark. The tv was off and the remote was where he had placed the night before. Dylan obviously hadn't been watching television or the remote would have been in the bathroom. She wasn't the type who put things back where they went.
"Dylan?" he called but received no answer. "Probably asleep." Lightly he knocked on the door to her room and pushed the door open. Peering inside he saw a neatly made bed and an empty closet. The coke cans which had been on the floor earlier had been thrown away. "Dylan?" he asked again into the empty room. Getting an idea he kneeled on the floor and peered underneath the bed, lifting the striped duvet. Her suitcase was missing.
Still kneeling on the floor he picked up the phone from the night table and pushed 0 for outgoing calls and dialed Natalie's cell phone number.
"Hello?" said the blonde on the other end of the line picking up on the first ring.
"Nat, its Bos."
"Hey Bos, how's Dylan?"
How was he going to tell her that she was gone? Shrugging he forged straight on, "I don't know. She isn't here."
"She went for a walk?"
"Not unless she took her luggage with her."
Natalie was confused. "She left? Is there a note? Have you called Alex?"
"Yes, no and no. You're the first one I called."
"Okay." She said taking a deep audible breath. "You go downstairs and find out if anyone has seen her. I'll call Alex we can meet at the Glouster Road underground station. Then we will both meet you at the hotel and all of us can search for Dylan. I've got some interesting information to share."
*-*-*-*-*
In his one room apartment in Woodford Cartusu tried to reach out to the angel. He was feeling bad and although he didn't want to feed on anyone else for fear of breaking their bond he needed some more energy. He opened his mind and felt her anger and her frustration. She could feel her think of Anthony. The man had obviously touched her deeply. Then her mind slammed shut. The closure was so sudden that he jumped in his chair, his eyes springing open in amazement. How had she done that? She was strong but that was impossible especially in her current state.
He knew what it was; he just couldn't put his finger on it. He could almost hear the voice of the Teacher explaining but for now he could only see the man's moving lips. "Damn it!" he yelled throwing the small ceramic cat that was on the table near the chair next to the wall. "I want her. I need her and she will not stop me. I don't know how she blocked me but she won't do it again. I won't let her do it again and if she tries.and if she tries she will be punished."
